


Present or Future

by Avarii



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt, ask box fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2768588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avarii/pseuds/Avarii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of oneshots and snippets of the romance between Cullen and Aislin Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ser

**Author's Note:**

> Works are also available on here: http://a-j-aria.tumblr.com/  
> Feel free to prompt me if you want to see anything!

He had found her walking along the outer walls of Skyhold. Either patrolling or simply out for a stroll, he was not sure nor did he quite care at the moment.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen greeted curtly, drawing her attention from the mountain landscape that stretched out before them. She turned, surprised to see him, but a familiar smirk soon upturned her lips and she looked at him with an expression he had become all too familiar with now.

“Cullen,” she greeted warmly, “Have I ever mentioned that I love it when you go all Commander on me?” Trevelyan fixed him with a sly look and Cullen merely managed a small grunt in reply, making her brows furrow at the lack of a response from the man.

“I learned some interesting news today,” Cullen went on with a false casuality about him, as if she hadn't said a word just moments before.

“Cullen,” The inquisitor addressed him, slightly ticked off at having been brushed off like that. “What is this abou--”

“I talked to Ser,” the Commander interrupted, fixing her with a hard look.

And oh. Oh no. She knew what this was about. This- This was not how she planned to approach this conversation at all. “Cullen –" She paused. The tension in the air was suddenly palpable and Aislin wanted nothing more than to run away. "I was going to tell you --” She began, but he was having none of it.

“You would do this to yourself? Become a Templar?” He spat the word like it was a curse on his tongue, mouth pressed together in a grim line – although the hardness in his expression was a stark contrast to the open hurt and betrayal he held in his eyes. They locked gazes for a moment, neither saying a word as they looked hopelessly on. It was Cullen who broke the silence first. “Aislin,” he murmured softly, quietly as he reached out a hand to cup her cheek and her eyes lifted up to his own once more. Cullen rarely called her by her first name unless they were alone in their quarters, taking a moment to themselves away from the world. But on this occasion he used her name differently, desperately, as if he were trying to make sense of the world with the single name upon his lips.

“I was going to tell you, Cullen,” She repeated again, searching his eyes and imploring him to understand. Normally, she'd try to lighten the atmosphere with her trademark snark, but this subject was one even she knew could not be taken lightly. “But I didn't want to bring it up until I was sure, nothing is set in stone.”

"Do I not have a voice in this matter?" Cullen's hand hovered over her cheek, he moved as if to caress her once more before clenching his gloved hand and stepping back. Aislin barely suppressed the way in which her heart clenched as the man she loved moved further away from her. “You have seen me at my worst, in the pits of despair, dignity all but cast away. I would not wish that fate on anyone, least of all you. And yet still, you would make yourself a slave to lyrium? Please, Catrin, just help me understand why you would want to do this to yourself - to us - after all you have seen?”

“It's not about us,” she said immediately, her voice rising in volume as she became more defensive. “The last thing I want is to see you in any more pain, Cullen, but it can help us. It can help the Inquisition.” And Cullen deflated slightly as she went on. Us. To Cullen that meant the two of them, her and him. To Aislin, that meant the cause. The Inquisition. The Inquisition came before anything, even herself. Cullen was not so selfless a man. He loved her for that; the way she did nothing but sacrifice parts of herself for others. Sometimes he feared for her though. If she did nothing but give and give and give, then when all was said and done, what would be left of her? He feared that this would be yet another instance where lyrium took away that which he loved most in the world.

He was being selfish and he knew it. But the woman before him was already so strong. She didn't need the lyrium. This was a woman who stared down a magister who would make himself a god and faced death head on with barely a look back. Why did she ever think she would need to make herself any stronger?

As if reading his mind, the inquisitor stepped forward, attempting to close the rift that was slowly coming between them, one she was not quite sure how to close. “Cullen.” His eyes drew back to hers once more, and the Inquisitor felt her heart pang at the hurt so evident in his face. He did not want this life for her, and she could hardly blame him, but things were not that simple.

“Maker, why?” The commander reached forward and pulled her into his arms, feeling the familiar warmth that only she carried with her as she buried herself in his embrace. He was not sure how many times he had asked the question in the past several minutes, but he still had yet to understand.

“You weren't there that day, at Emprise du Lion,” she stated. And Cullen winced.

You weren't there. The phrase echoed in his head, and it was not the first time he felt regret at not being out on the field with her, another sword at her side able to fight back the enemies that would wish her dead.

“Maker, that came out wrong,” the Inquisitor pulled back and looked up at him earnestly. “I didn't mean - I was not accusing you. Your troops need you here,” she insisted. “What I meant is, when we were there.. The demons, they..” She paused, her eyes growing unfocused as she recalled the close call that trip had been. “We weren't ready. The demons coming out of the rifts, they're getting stronger. And I just.. I need to be prepared. More prepared. We almost lost Sera and Cassandra that day,” and she remembered Sera swearing up a storm as Dorian attempted to heal her. She pursed her lips before looking him dead in the eyes. “I will not let that happen again,” she declared. “I cannot not lose them.”

“And I cannot lose you,” he murmured into her hair. “Forgive me, Inquisitor, for my selfishness. But this is the one thing I cannot bear to see you suffer through.”

“Nothing is set in stone,” she repeated, much more softly this time as her hand reached up in between them to cradle his cheek.

“Then let me at least give you this,” he spoke, barely a whisper as he turned to the hand cradling his face and placed a chaste kiss on her palm. “There are ways to combat demons and magic without the use of lyrium. I can teach you that much, make you stronger, more prepared without the addiction.”

“And you think that would be enough?” She asked, turning her head questioningly.

“You are already enough. You just do not see it.”

The Inquisitor huffed, sending the strands of her bangs flying up with the motion. “You have far too much faith in me.”

“And you have far too little in yourself,” he countered right away. “But I know you do not need to become a Templar in order to overcome your enemies.”

“Okay.”

Cullen blinked, stunned. “What was that?”

“I said, okay,” she spoke with a smile. “We can do this. Together, you and I. You teach me all you can, and I will use it so that no demon or magister can best the Inquisition.” She said the last part with her trademark overconfident smirk and he couldn't help but let out a breathless laugh at the sight as he pulled her closer to him.

“Thank you,” he whispered into the top of her head. This would not be the last time they had this conversation, he was sure of that. He knew Aislin, knew when she was simply trying to ease tensions as she was always wont to do. But for now, this was enough. She was enough.

“No,” she murmured as she reached up onto her toes to kiss him as she had been wanting to for a while now. “Thank you for having so much faith. For not giving up.”

“On you? Never,” he smiled as he reached down once more to press his lips firmly against hers.


	2. Ser Priggish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen sure knows how to pick 'em.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word of the day is priggish. 
> 
> More of my works available: http://a-j-aria.tumblr.com/  
> Feel free to prompt me anytime!

 “Cranky this morning, aren’t we?” she said as she strode into the empty War Room, a flustered Commander following at her heels. She could practically  _feel_ Cullen rolling his eyes at her from her back.

“I am  _not_ cranky,” he growled, feeling ridiculous even saying such a word. “I am simply _asking_  however that you refrain from referring to me as  _'General Uptight'_  in front of the new recruits,” he bit out and the Inquisitor let out a laugh she had been trying to hold back for his sake.

“Maker, it’s even funnier coming out of your mouth.” She clutched her stomach and leaned against the war table as she tried and failed to pull back on her laughter seeing as it was clearly only making the Commander more frustrated.

“Truly it is not nearly as funny as you’re making it out to be,” he sighed as he closed the door behind them.

The Inquisitor raised her hands up in defense. She attempted to feign seriousness but the way in which her lips twitched upwards betrayed her. “No need to get your knickers in a bunch, it’s all in good fun,” she said, a light air to her voice as she leaned her weight against the War Table. “Surely the recruits can see that much.”

“I am their  _Commander_ , they need to see and respect me as a leader. Which is incredibly difficult to do between you and Sera calling me names and your  _relentless_  prattling.” Cullen moved forward, closing in on her and placing his hands on either side of her, trapping her between himself and the War Table. He leaned in close, their faces but a few inches away from each other.

“I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice taking on a softer tone, and her eyes becoming more intense as she pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. “I think recruits seeing you without that stick up your arse all the time can do you some good.”

Cullen’s chest shook as he tried to hold back a laugh. “And here I thought you quite liked my arse,” he accused.

“Oh I  _do_ ,” she whispered huskily and Cullen stiffened.

“Did you just—”

“I am a weak woman.” And the nerve of her, she  _smiled_. The most devilish smile Cullen had ever seen in his life, and it made a shiver of anticipation coarse through his body. She kissed him passionately, grabbing him by his pauldrons and forcibly pulling him down to her. It was moments like these that made Cullen appreciate the difference in height between them. How he loved to lean down and bring his arms around her, bringing her closer to him like his.

And yet all too soon it was over for she had released her grip from him and she pulled her lips from his own.

She smiled as she looked up at him, before slipping under his arms as the Commander could only look back, slightly disorientated after getting lost in the throes of passion just moments before. As she reached the door, her voice called back to him softly. “Have a good night,  _General Uptight,_ ” she whispered, the smile he had come to love tugging at her lips and before he can even get his bearings once more she had slipped out the door and into the main hall of Skyhold.

Cullen groaned, leaning back on the table as he ran his hands through the slight waves in his hair. “Maker, what have I gotten myself into with this one?” 


	3. Kindle to the Fire: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The differences between them were hardly enough to tear them apart. Their bond was stronger than that, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trevelyan Mage!Inquisitor for this chapter because I'm fickle like that. We don't see enough of these two butting heads. 
> 
> More of my work can be found here: http://a-j-aria.tumblr.com/  
> Feel free to prompt me anytime!

Cullen paced about his study, his right hand on the hilt of his sword as if he were ready to spring into battle right at that moment. With the way he was acting, the Inquisitor wouldn’t be surprised. 

There was a furrow to his brow and the scar on the right side of his face pulled downwards in a frown as he all but snarled at her as he spoke - the threatening stance was every bit the ferocious lion his reputation painted him out to be. 

Rarely had she ever seen such anger and aggression from the man before her, and never towards her. His temper had always been reserved for enemies on the battlefield and in the War Room.  _Although,_ she mused,  _I am hardly his ally in this right now._  

"— cannot  _believe_ you would summon a bloody  _demon_ inside of Skyhold!” She was brought out of her thoughts as Cullen rounded on her once more. 

"Cullen —" 

"Do not ‘ _Cullen’_ me, Herald,” and she winced at that. She can scarcely recall the last time he had called her by that title — likely back in Haven. It stung to hear him use her title to put space between them. “You are putting the entire Inquisition in danger. And for what? A bloody mirror?” 

 

And yes, that was exactly what for. Through some Dalish clans inhabiting the Brecilian forests, the Inquisition scouts managed to seize yet another Eluvian, much like the one Morrigan had brought before them. The clan had been glad to be rid of the thing. The mirror itself was tainted, attracting darkspawn in droves to the clan and causing more trouble than they believed it was worth. 

 _"If only they knew it’s true worth,"_ Morrigan had murmured wistfully in response to that. 

"I truly don’t think the danger is as great as you are painting it out to be," she countered to the Commander, feeling her own ire rise as the debate continued. Did he have so little faith in her? 

"No danger?" He scoffed, his eyes rolling with the action and his lips pulling upwards in a snarl. Maker, he truly was angry. "You and this witch, Morrigan are to summon a demon—"

"A  _spirit,”_ she corrected immediately. “There’s a difference.”

"I do not trust her." 

"Solas will be there as well." 

"And you think that makes it better?" He trusted the elf even less, if he were to be completely honest. The apostate was completely mysterious. While Morrigan was not entirely trustworthy herself, Cullen had to give her credit that she was moral enough to have fought beside the Hero of Ferelden during the Blight. Solas on the other hand was an apostate who seemingly came from nowhere as soon as the breach opened up in the sky. So no, Cullen didn’t trust the elf one bit. 

"Then it seems you don’t trust me either. Or is it just all mages?" The Inquisitor crossed her arms in front of her, taking a defensive stance against Cullen’s anger. "Frankly," she hissed. "I do not care what your opinion is on the matter. This  _is_ happening whether you want it to or not.”

"You know I can’t let you do that." He stepped closer to her, imposing and intimidating, but she was not one to be intimidated easily. 

"You know you can’t stop me," she responded, her shoulders straightening as she tilted her chin up to look him in the eye. Challenging him. 

"Then I will be there when this is to take place," he declared, knowing there was no point in challenging the Inquisitor, their leader, on her decisions, but still refusing to back down. He respected her orders as his leader but he very clearly did not agree with them as a person. Just because he relented to her demand did not mean that he wouldn’t be there the entire time, ready for the whole spell to go awry as he had witnessed on several occasions during his time in the Circle. 

"If, Maker forbid, something did go wrong, I am more than capable of taking care of the situation." 

"Fair enough, but having a templar oversee this would be -"

"A  _templar?”_ she repeated, her voice lifting an octave. “Oh so you’re a templar again? Are you going back to the Circle as well? Send me a  postcard while you’re there.”

Usually, her snark was a welcome to any conversation, something that lifted the mood and made him look forward to their conversations. But right now, all her sarcasm and barbed wit did was irritate him, make him angrier that she wasn’t taking this seriously."That’s not what I — Look," he spoke, his tone clipped. "All I am saying is that as a templar —"

"You mean an  _ex_ -templar who hasn’t taken lyrium in years? What could he possibly do?”

She stopped. Silence filled the room and the tension became palpable.   _Oh._ "Shit, Cullen. I didn’t —" 

"Leave," he ordered, eyes hardened and cold, and suddenly she felt her chest clench at the sight. 

"Cullen— wait..! She stepped forward, reaching out to put a hand to his arm but he pulled back, just out of reach.

"I said.  _Leave.”_ He turned his back away from her walking to his desk as she stood there, at a loss. She shouldn’t have said what she did, she knew it, and wanted to say as much. But he was having none of it. Not now. This was not an issue that would be resolved overnight and right now her presence would only make things worse. Cullen was a stubborn man, and as much as she loved that about him, she could easily feel the walls he was putting up between them right now as he shut her out. She looked towards Cullen who was still facing away from her, and watched his back, wanting nothing more than to approach him, make him face her. She did none of those things. Instead, she left the room without another word. 


	4. Kindle to the Fire (Cont.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter.

 The ritual was to be performed today. There were only two figures in the hall where the Eluvian was at the time the Inquisitor walked in. Morrigan was standing staff in hand as she set protective glyphs in the ground. Likely a defense just in case the worst should happen. The witch typically held a calm, mysterious demeanor, however, in this moment, she practically radiated excitement and anticipation and the Herald could hardly blame her. After all, if they were successful in this endeavor, it would change… Well, virtually everything.

Turning her eyes away from the mage, she looked towards the other figure in the room and blinked, stunned.

“You’re here,” she murmured, surprise evident in her voice.

“As I said I would be.” Cullen’s eyes were carefully neutral – cold – his stance on guard, ready for the magic to go awry. She felt like she was in the Circle again. The two of them had not spoken since their argument the other night save for some quick conversations and advising in the War Room. But that hardly counted.

There was a wariness in his eyes, one that was directed towards her specifically. He held a caution around himself that she had scarcely seen since they had first met after the attack on the Conclave. She had to admit that it hurt to see that look in his eyes.

It also pissed her off. After all, what had she done to make him so wary? She thought they were past this, that magic would not stand in between them. Evidently she appeared to be wrong.

“You don’t need to be here,” she spoke softly, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of others, but Morrigan was hardly a gossip and all of her focus was at the end of the hall making preparations.

 

“I am simply being prepared in the event of —”

“In the event of what? In the event we fuck up and get ourselves possessed?” Cullen said nothing and that just made her angrier, more fired up. “And what will you plan to do if that’s to be the case? Put me down like a feral mabari hound?”

At that, Cullen’s neutral expression broke into one of shock, eyes widening at her words. “What? Maker – _no_. That was never my intention.”

“Then what  _was_ your intention, Commander?” He paused, for the first time in days, he was considering his words carefully (a trait that he severely lacked, especially when his temper was thrown into the mix). The silence between them was tense, but it was different from before.

They remained like that for a few more seconds before Cullen finally opened his mouth to speak but—

“Andraste’s arse, woman, how do you expect us to cross the hall with all the bloody glyphs you have marked into the stonework?” Dorian’s voice carried across the room, and the Inquisitor reluctantly tore her eyes away from the man before her to watch the scene.

“Tread carefully,” Morrigan said flippantly, eyes never leaving the Eluvian to acknowledge the man.

“… Right,” he replied as he edged his way in between the glyphs to where the group had gathered, Solas following from behind.

“Well,” she spoke, turning her full attention on the room as she got closer to where Morrigan was standing between the two mirrors. “It seems as if everyone is here.”

“Sera chose not to come after all?” Dorian remarked, feigning surprise, causing a laugh to escape from the Inquisitor’s mouth.

“She informed me that she had other business to attend to. Far, far away from Skyhold.”

Morrigan interrupted their banter, “Enough talk already, I want to begin the ritual. Elf,” she addressed Solas, “what is it we need to know before we begin?” And the Inquisitor had to give it to him, he barely made a face at the way in which he was addressed. He was every bit the professional at that moment.

“The spirit we are summoning is one of Wisdom,” he explained. “It came to me in the Fade, willing to help the Inquisition with unlocking the knowledge the mirror holds, even at great risk to itself.”

“Great risk?” Cullen spoke up finally, the edge returning to his voice.

Solas simply nodded, unfazed. “When a spirit crosses into our world, it is vulnerable to the whims of those around it. We must try not to let our ambitions corrupt the spirit into doing anything that would go against its nature.” He spoke the last part with a warning glance towards Morrigan.

“I see,” she spoke, sending him a sharp look, “well if it’ll help the ritual go more smoothly and ease your mind, then I will simply observe.” At Solas’ expectant expression she added, “From over there.” At last, the elf nodded and the rest of them got into their position around the barrier Dorian had cast just moments ago.

The Herald attempted to clear her mind. Whatever was between her and Cullen would be dealt with later. But, right now, this ritual was her main priority. She could feel him standing behind her, tense and stoic, ready for anything. But she, too, was ready for anything.

“Now, let us begin,” Solas declared as he lifted his staff into the air. A bright blue light filled the room, made even more brilliant as it bounced off of the two mirrors on either side of the barrier. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from some of the glare, but held her position. In mere seconds, the light dimmed save for that which emanated from the being before them.

“Welcome, my friend,” Solas greeted to the fade spirit. The spirit resonated, its light and presence seeming to fill the room with a feeling she could hardly find the words to describe. The spirit had a humanoid shape to it, much like that of the Divine that she herself had encountered in the Fade. Perhaps they took such forms to appear more familiar. Although that was purely speculation on her part.

“This is the Eluvian, is it not?” The spirit spoke, getting straight to the point. It ran its hand across the cracked surface, pouring some of its light into the glass. “Even after thousands of years, it still has much magic inside of it. There are energies blocking it from channeling through, however. I could clear them for you.”

“At what cost?” Cullen’s doubtful voice carried across the room and the Inquisitor turned to face the man.

“Cullen-” she growled warningly.

“Put yourself at ease, human,” the spirit addressed the ex-templar. “I ask for nothing in return as I am simply fulfilling the request of a companion. I can clear the Eluvian of the energies blocking its magic, but repairing the mirror itself and harnessing that magic will be on all of you.” Its voice was full and powerful, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The spirit’s very being, everything that it was, resonated with the knowledge of several ages. It was a bit overwhelming, but nonetheless awe-inspiring.

“Thank you,” the Inquisitor nodded. “We could ask nothing more of you.” This was obviously a benevolent spirit and they are lucky for receiving any help at all for this. Spirits typically do not get involved in the matters of the living.

A surge of light came from the being’s hand as it focused its energy on the elven artifact. Slowly but surely, the mirror’s cracked surface began to clear, revealing the faces of those in the room and reflecting back the light of the spirit.

“Magnificent,” she heard Morrigan’s voice murmur from her position in the hall.

As the spirit of Wisdom worked, she watched as her reflection came into focus, Cullen standing just behind her, bathed in the light of the Fade. Despite the stern look he was attempting to keep his expression in, even she could see the slight spark of wonder as the spirit’s power filled the threshold.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and she smirked as if to say “ _I told you so_.” The Commander rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly and she couldn’t help but see that as a small victory on her part.

In a matter of moments, the light dimmed once more and the room went back to the way it was before. “It is done,” the spirit declared solemnly.

“I –  _We_ thank you for your help. It has been an honor,” the Inquisitor replied with a nod towards the spirit.

The spirit turned towards Solas. “The world of the living is very much a flawed place. The creatures within it even moreso. But you, Solas, are surrounded by a good people. Flawed though they may be. And you, Herald,” the spirit turned to her once more. “The decisions you and your Inquisition make do not just affect Thedas, but the Fade as well. Pray that you make the right ones.”

She sighed. “No pressure or anything, right?”

“Your light will carry these people through these trying times. I hope that my power has helped ease the burden thrust upon you, but I must take my leave. The world of the living is no place for one such as myself.”

“Thank you. Go in peace, spirit.” And just like that, the spirit was gone, leaving no trace of its presence, save for the thinning of the Veil that always occurred after contact with the fade for a prolonged period of time.

“Well!” Morrigan exclaimed, clapping her hands together as she walked forward to the Eluvian, running her hand across the cracks in the glass. “It seems as if there is much work to be done.”

“Indeed,” Solas chimed in, turning towards the doors at the end of the hall. “I must pay a visit to the Fade to make sure my friend has crossed back over without incident. So if you’ll excuse me.”

“That’s it then?” Cullen finally spoke up, a puzzled frown on his face.

“Disappointed, Commander?” the Inquisitor remarked. She raised her staff to dispel the barrier and surrounding glyphs, their light fading from the stonework. “I know how you were looking forward to some action today.”

“That’s not —”

“Cullen, were you worried about us? I’m touched,” Dorian spoke, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “In all seriousness, there truly was little cause for concern. Cleansing rituals are much like healing magic, only with spirits thrown into the mix.”

“What he said,” the Inquisitor agreed as she got up from her knees after dispelling the last glyph.

“I didn’t know,” the Commander replied, puzzled. As a former templar, his knowledge of magic should equal that of any mage, and yet the more time he spent in the Inquisition, the more he learned that there were more kinds of magic in the world and beyond that his training had never prepared him for.

“And how could you?” Morrigan spoke up, eyes momentarily flitting towards them in the reflection of the Eluvian. “Most cleansing is done for ancient Elven artifacts, and that is hardly anything the Circle would wish to get involved in.”

“The Circle at Ostwick used to destroy any such artifacts that came into their possession for fear of uh.. possession,” she explained, she looked at Cullen. He was listening to them now in a way he refused to just nights before. This was the most conversation the two of them had had since that night, and she was glad for it. Glad he was hearing what she and the mages had to say.

“Hmm yes,” Dorian hummed as he, too, walked towards the door. “These rituals were quite common in Tevinter. I must say however, that I much preferred this to the demon summoning of magisters back home. It left quite the bitter aftertaste.” And with that, he too, left the room.

The Inquisitor made to follow after him, but the sound of Cullen’s voice gave her pause.

“Inquisitor, wait.” She turned and watched as he approached, his stance far less aggressive than it had been just an hour ago. She couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful for the change. “May I talk with you for a moment?”

“Not now, Cullen,” she sighed.

He paused in his step. “I see.”

“No, it’s not like that,” she spoke. “Keeping up the barrier has drained me. I am going to rest for a bit. Come to my quarters later,” she whispered, placing a gentle, comforting hand onto his arm. “We will talk then.” The Commander nodded towards her, and she smiled softly before heading to her quarters. He watched her back as she walked away from him, feeling as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders for the first time in days. 

“I don’t see it,” Morrigan mused, interrupting the Commander’s thoughts.

“See what exactly?”

“The allure of you ex-templars.”

The witch turned away from, evidently done with the conversation and dismissing him from her presence entirely. Cullen sighed, this has been a trying few days.

—-

It was dark when he came to her quarters. The stairs leading up to her room were quite familiar to the Commander by now, as they both much preferred spending the night in her space as opposed to his own (at least, she claimed, until he fixed the blighted hole in his ceiling). The memory brought a smile upon his lips although it quickly faded as the reasons for his being here were not so jovial in nature. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, he knocked three times on the wooden door and entered at the sound of her voice calling him inside.

She was sitting at her desk, working on some reports no doubt. A single candle burned dimly, casting a soft light onto her face. He was more than a bit mesmerized by the sight before him. But now was hardly the time to dwell on such things. Clearing his throat, Cullen was the first to speak. “I believe we need to have a talk.”

“Famous last words, no?” she spoke, a small grin counteracting the pensive look in her eyes. He chuckled. Her wit was a familiar comfort for both her and himself, and Cullen was surprised by how much he missed it.

“Hardly,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand as he went further into the room. “But I believe we do need to talk about what happened the other night.”

She sighed and got up from her seat, moving in front of the desk to face him. “I am sorry, for what I said, Cullen. I don’t truly believe it, could never truly believe any of that. You are stronger without lyrium than you could ever hope to be with it. I need you to know that,” she implored. She had only said those words the other night out of anger. It was not that she truly meant them, but more that she was angry and knew it would hit him where it hurt.

“Thank you for that,” he murmured, stepping closer to her, feeling an overwhelming need to close the distance that had formed between them over the past few days. “I, too, must apologize. I gave you the wrong idea and I was too quick to doubt your choices and question your judgment.”

“It can’t have been easy,” she remarked, leaning forward as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You may have spent several years in the Circle but this is all new to you.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“It’s really not.” She smiled, her lips but a few centimeters away from his own, and the sight nearly left him breathless.

She could feel the breath of his small laugh against her cheek and she leaned in closer to press a small kiss onto his lips, before pulling back once more. “Magic is not your enemy anymore, Cullen.  _I_ am not your enemy.”

“I am well aware,” he whispered, “I am still trying to not let my biases stand in the way of my choices. Especially pertaining to you. You are a powerful mage, more than capable to handle whatever fate has in store.”

“Hmm, yes. Keep going.”

He smirked, placing his hands on either side of her on the desk. She leaned upwards kissing him further, the feel of his stubble against her cheek sending a shiver through her body. When she pulled back, he looked ready to speak again, but she placed her hand over his mouth, muffling whatever words he was going to say and earning a heated glare from where he stood.

“Cullen, listen to me,” she said, slowly, carefully, not yet removing her hand. “We were both wrong about some things, and we’ll both continue to be wrong about more things over time. And I forgive you for all of it, present and future.” She removed her hand, moving her arm to wrap around his neck once more, burying her hands into the pauldrons of his coat. He looked at her, a fond look in his eyes, and she felt her heart thump loudly against her chest and an emotion she could not quite put words to overcome her.

This time, when she pressed her lips against his, it was much more heated, passionate. She felt the slight groove of his scar as it pressed against her skin and she knew that come morning, she’d have stubble burn along her jaw as she could feel the friction of it against her skin.  _Worth it,_  she thought as she ran her hand through his blond locks as he nipped and sucked his way along her jaw.

She couldn’t help the small groan of frustration that slipped past her lips as he pulled back to look at her, drinking her in. “I—” he began, but she tightened her grip in his hair and dragged him down to kiss her once more.

His breathing was ragged when she pulled back and she smiled once more. “Shut up, Cullen.” And that was all the words he needed to hear before wrapping her in his embrace once more and pressing his lips to hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to do a smut scene at the end but I don't think it fit, so in the end you just ended up with a lot of talking. Sorry about that.


	5. A Moment's Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had been diligently training up until that point. Aislin thinks they’ve earned a small break after all of this.

 “Your stance isn’t wide enough.”

“That’s because I’m holding a shield not a bloody maul.” Cullen stood, shield first before her in the clearing. “If I go any wider, it’ll throw off my weight.”

The Inquisitor sighed and lowered her sword. “ _You’ll_  get thrown if you don’t go any wider,” she replied to which Cullen rolled his eyes exasperatedly. The Inquisitor had a thin sheen of sweat along her brow, but there was a cool breeze blowing through the clearing that was refreshing on her skin.

The two were currently in a clearing in the forest a ways away from Skyhold practicing their combat moves. The Commander had left the Iron Bull in charge of the soldier’s training regime for the day, a fact which he knew would rightfully teach the recruits about what happens when they play games of Wicked Grace and drank whilst on still on duty. Cullen, however, took advantage of his brief respite by heading out with the Herald. Out in the grassy field, the sun high and the breeze calm, it was truly a perfect day to go out alone together like this, a privilege neither party was often privy to.  _Although_ , Cullen thought with a smirk,  _this is hardly what one would call a typical outing._ But he is quickly coming to learn that nothing when it came to Aislin Trevelyan was typical.

 

“Tsk, tsk, Commander, you’re doing it again,” she lectured as she nudged his feet further apart with the flat end of her sword.

Cullen grimaced, frustrated. “I hope you realize that I do have  _a bit_ of experience in combat under my belt as well, no?”

Aislin snorted, “I certainly hope the Commander of the Inquisition would have some experience.”

“Then perhaps you could refrain from lecturing me as if I am an adolescent boy holding a blade for the first time,” he snapped, although not quite intending it to come off as annoyed as it did. “Sorry, that came out rougher than I had intended—” he began but Aislin interrupted.

“Fuck. I – You’re right, I’m sorry,” she sighed and her shoulders drooped just a bit as she let go of some of the tension in her muscles. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t trust in your abilities. Cullen,” she paused and looked him in the eyes, “you’re a better leader and soldier than I could ever hope to be.” And he could tell from the earnestness in her eyes that she truly believed that. He disagreed with her most definitely for he saw no stronger person or leader than the very Herald of Andraste, but that was not the kind of discussion (or argument) worth having at the moment.

“But..” Cullen edged on for he knew she had more to say yet.

“ _But,”_  she emphasized, “we’re not just fighting mages and templars and abominations anymore. There are demons that we face on a daily basis that are three times my size.” And Cullen would like to point out that with her height, that was not saying as much as she thought it was, but artfully decided to keep his opinion to himself when she fixed him with a pointed look, likely knowing what he was going to say before he even said the words.

“I have handled my fair share of beasts,” Cullen countered. A part of him knew she was right, recognized that he was far too used to dealing with human enemies than that of.. otherworldly origins save for Knight-Commander Meredith and the abominations in both the Circle and Kirkwall. Another half, however, did not want the Inquisitor to think him weak and see him as unfit for the role he has taken upon himself. Rationally, he knew that it was an unwarranted fear, but the insecurity persisted nonetheless.

“Not like this, you haven’t.” She shook her head, eyes growing unfocused for a moment as she thought back to one of the many battles she had been forced to fight in the past months. Cullen sometimes wondered what kinds of demons she was battling within herself and longed for the day when he could be there for her as she was for him.

“Anyways,” Aislin quickly shook herself and regained her composure and Cullen wasn’t sure whether that was for the best or not. He always admired how she never restrained her emotions, wearing them so plainly on her face – she had nothing to hide. But just because she put up a front, did not mean that she dealt with all of her problems or didn’t try to dodge them when they surfaced. Her voice brought him back to the present, however, and he decided that dwelling on it would benefit no one at the moment. “Stand however you want, I’m going to charge you,” she declared, hefting her sword forward in front of her and getting into position.

“What?”

“You heard what I said, get to it.” And Cullen did. He spread his feet apart, wider than usual as per the Inquisitor’s earlier instructions and put his shield up before him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he braced himself as he got a look at her from above the curve of his shield. Aislin wasted no time, charging forward with a yell and swinging the Greatsword in a mighty arc, turning the blade away from Cullen and hitting him directly with the pommel straight to the shield.

Cullen staggered backwards, the wind knocked out of him at the force. In the next moments, he was staring up at her triumphant smirk from the ground on which he lay. “Not. A. Word.” He hissed at her when he was finally able to catch her breath as he felt a small blush for across his cheeks.

“I didn’t say anything,” she spoke from above him, but the mocking smile said plenty. “Just – “

“I know.”

“Like I said – “

“I know.”

“You need to – “

“Maker, woman, I  _know_.” To which she sniggered as she reached her hand out to help him up. Cullen wasn’t yet finished, and when he put her hand in hers, he tightened his grip and hauled her down onto the ground next to him.

Aislin toppled over him and she glared at him playfully as she adjusted herself to straddle his hips. “You’re just being petty because you know I was right,” she claimed as her lips hovered just slightly above his own. Cullen had to admit that he much preferred this view over the one from before.

He smirked and began to kiss along her jaw. “That was incredibly humiliating, you know.”

“Widen your stance next time,” she hummed, shivering from the sensation of his cool lips against her heated skin.

Cullen just huffed a breath of air in response as he pulled back and sent her a flat look that said ‘ _I get it already’_  to which Aislin could not help but laugh as she collapsed onto the ground next to him and gave him a shove. He let out a low chuckle in response and turned his head to look at her, grass in her hair, smile wide. She looked up at the sky with an unguarded expression as if for once, she wasn’t expecting a dragon to descend down from it and reign hell from above. She grew quiet as her laughs died down and slid closer to him, using his pauldrons as a makeshift cushion for her head and Cullen was a bit too endeared at the moment to really complain about it.

“This is nice,” she whispered, so light that the wind could carry her words away.

“It is,” he agreed. And they stayed like that for a while, saying nothing and looking up at the sky, enjoying the feel of grass beneath them and the wind above them. It wasn’t often that the two of them could take a respite from the world like this, and Aislin was going to revel in every second she got of it.

However, moments later, Cullen began to shift. He cleared his throat uncertainly and leaned up, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. “Erm.. I suppose we should get back to – uh – “ he began awkwardly, but Aislin was having none of it.

Her hand flew out and pushed his shoulder to lay him back down on the ground. “No.. Let’s just stay like this for a bit longer,” she murmured, moving closer. And Cullen could find no reasonable excuse to disagree. 


End file.
